Wedlock
by Doec
Summary: Arranged marriages are still legal in the Federation, see what happens to an unsuspecting pair!
1. Chapter 1

Wedlock

By Katie, aka Doec

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, otherwise it would have been quite different. I am but a humble ficcer, cowering at the feet of legitimate authordome. Please accept my lowly offerings in the spirit of entertainment.

Note to the reader: its called suspension of disbelief! This is an answer to a challenge given by my sister, please take your complaints to her. To her I also dedicate this fic, to Maggie

Chapter 1 The M-R-S Directive

Seven of Nine buzzes the door of Captain Janeway's ready room. She waits awkwardly, the cryptic request in her hand. Finally, she receives a "come in." Seven enters, PADD in hand.

Once inside, she cuts right to the chase: "Your presence has been requested in Astrometrics tomorrow afternoon. I just received this in the latest communication from the Alpha Quadrant."

Janeway takes the PADD, slightly perturbed. "From Admiral Paris? Strange it doesn't shed much light on things..." she trails off, lost in thought. With her usual directness, Seven cuts into her captain's reverie. "Then you have no clue to his intentions?"

"None, "she replies, distracted, "only the subject line seems to carry any hints, 'Loophole'."

The next day at the appointed time, Janeway enters Astrometrics, and is surprised to see Lt. Paris there as well. They stare at each other but do not have time to question one another. Seven of Nine is in her usual position to dial up Earth while Icheb looks on. This is obviously doubling as lesson time for him. She nods to them both in cool greeting as Starfleet Command flickers into view. Admiral Paris appears on the screen, clearing the Starfleet logo screen saver. (hey, it beats flying toasters!)

"Ah, good, you're both here. Now let's get to business. I'll try to get through this as quickly as possible because of the limited time this connection lasts. I am not technically here in an official capacity, so please, relax." Once he is contented that they are, he continues, all formality dropped. "Tom, Kathryn, tell me: how are you?"

Tom clears his throat, trying not to look as paranoid as he felt, "Oh, you know, same as usual. A little singed around the edges but all in all good, wouldn't you say, Captain?"

"Well enough. But I doubt that you would waste a call like this just to ask after our heath. What is it you need to say 'in person', as it were?

"I'm surprised at you, Captain. I assumed you understood my last message." The elder Paris takes on a concerned look.

"You can be difficult to decode, when you choose to be secretive. We have very little time left so if its not out of line I'd like to know what exactly is going on."

Admiral Paris holds up two hands, silencing his old prized pupil. "I've known you a long time, Kathryn and I believe I know what you need. Hopefully, this will make things easier." He pauses and turns to his son, "Take her hand, Tom. Go on, she won't bite." Awkwardly, they hold hands, giving each other looks that clearly doubt his present sanity. "Promise you'll continue to take care of one another." Disarmed, they both answer "I will."

"Perfect! Then with the authority vested in me by the United Fedaration of Planets, I know pronounce you man and wife." And with that, the transmission ends and the screen goes blank.

"What!" they chorus noneffectively at the dark screen, too shocked to process what had just happened.

A/N: Okay, its silly, I know, but bear with me! And don't take it too seriously. Constructivecritisism I can take, but no flames please!


	2. Starfleet issue wife

Chapter 2: Starfleet-issue wife

They both stare defeatedly at the screen for another moment before chancing a look at their new spouse. Tom is startled to see an appraising smile on Janeway's face. She looks him up and down with a mild "hmm" before breaking into one of her "dazzles" that he can't help but be reassured by. "So...Mrs Paris, what do you think of this?" He asks, hoping to sound casual and not scared out of his skin.

She swings their still-clasped hands with her infectious smile still in place and shrugs coolly, "I could do worse." She lets go and walks out of Astrometrics with an uncharacteristic giggle. Tom takes a second before going to catch up to her, stammering his confusion.

"Captain! Are you seriously considering going through with this?"

"Not if it would make you that unhappy, Tom, but I'm game if you are. Who knows? It could be fun." She stops in her tracks and turns to face him, "Tell me: what do you think of this?" Although her request is serious, she can't help fixing him with a fond gaze, though she is unaware of her expression.

Tom takes a deep breath, "I'm still getting over the surprise, to be honest, I haven't really thought about that yet. Did you know what Dad had up his sleeve? He made it sound like you two had an understanding."

This wipes the smile right off Kathryn's face, she flinches from the sting of accusation. "All I got was a 24-hour warning that he might do something like this, but your name didn't even come up. All I know is based on speculation and the cryptic suggestions of an old friend. He totally believes that its what's best for me, I think maybe he felt sorry for me, don't ask me why. He was a captain once, he knows how lonely it is to be unable to fraternize with the lower-ranks." Tom starts to interrupt, but is stopped, "Just hear me out. They probably pre-dated some documents, they may have even tampered with your birth-certificate...so this looks like an arranged marriage. They're not common but still legal, and in our case, at least semi-plausible. We're the offspring of two of the most infamous Starfleet brass in recent years, and our families have always been close. Someone might see it as natural that we be intended for one another." She pauses for breath, giving him a whistful smile, "And besides, rank doesn't matter here. If two officers are unwittingly stationed on the same ship who are betrothed, it is appropriate, regardless of rank, that they be...wed." Kathryn sighs, truly accepting what had just happened for what it is, "I'm glad they picked you."

Tom listens intently, then nods, "As long as you weren't plotting behind my back...this will need time to get used to, but I'll give it a shot."

Janeway can barely keep her expression neutral, "Well, now that that's settled, you're dismissed." He goes one way, she goes a few steps in the other. Just as he is about to round the corner she calls out, "See you tonight!" He whips around as she leaves for real, catching a glimpse of her sparklingly anticipating grin.


	3. A Protective Family

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, I don't own anything, except a '94 Cavelier and a pygmi panther attack-cat. Please don't sue me

Tom physically shakes himself and makes his way back to the Bridge. Halfway down to the turbolift, Harry Kim comes around a corner and greets his friend with a bright grin.

"Tom! You look like you've got something on your mind. You all right? What happened?"

"Its a long story, Harry. To cut it short, my dad, via real-time comm, just married me and Captain Janeway."

If Ensign Kim is at all surprised to hear such news, he hides it well. "And you were worried you'd never make something of yourself! Seriously though, if I didn't know better I'd say you didn't look too happy with it."

"To tell you the truth, I'm really not. We're going to try it out, though. The captain seems pleased about it."

"And why wouldn't she? She gets to tadpole it with the most eligible bachelor in the quadrant!"

Tom shakes his head wearily, "I just have to try not to disappoint her."

"Good, good, but keep in mind that if I ever see her unhappy because of something you did, or _should_ have done, I'll kill ya." With that, he gives Tom a hearty whack on the back and walks off.

Tom reaches the turbolift and buzzes. After a second or two of waiting, the doors swish open, revealing its current passenger to be none other than Commander Chakotay.

Chakotay gives him a semi-dark look, "If it isn't the Royal Consort. Well, don't just stand there, get in."

He steps in, looking very ashen. "So you've heard?"

"Listen, Paris, I'm sure its common knowledge that Kathryn is, to say the least, one of my very best friends." There is a long, deathly pause, "It would greatly upset me if I heard there was trouble between the two of you. There's no telling what a man might do if he felt the need to defenda lady's honor. Think about that."

Tom gets off at deck 2, opting to walk the rest of the way rather than spending any more time with Chakotay. He walks into the Mess Hall, spotting Neelix behind the counter in his usual high spirits.

"Mr. Paris! I haven't seen you all day!" he gushed.

"Hey, Neelix, I need to ask you something. What would you say if I told you...Captain Janeway and I just had a phaser-rifle wedding?"

"I'd say congratulations are in order! That's wonderful news!"

"And what would you say if I was...less than ecstatic about this turn of events?"

"I'd say that you don't know what a lucky man you are!"

"And...if through some unfortunate misunderstanding--in the future, mind you--I _accidentally _made her upset with me?" Tom braces for the answer he is sure is coming.

"I'd gut you with a rusty spoon." Neelix concludes in his usual chipper tone, gives him a friendly grin and goes back into the kitchen.

That evening around 2000, Tom goes to Sickbay to see if the Doctor needs his assistance, and to voice a growing concern.

"Doc, its like half the ship is out to get me, and I haven't even done anything yet!"

"Now, now, Mr. Paris, they're just being protective of Captain Janeway. We just don't want to see her get hurt any more than she already has been." Tom starts at the Doctor's use of the word 'we'. The Doctor grins in acknowledgement, "Captain Janeway has many friends on this ship, I count myself among them. Keep that in mind, Lieutenant." Tom stammers nervously, forced a would-be casual smile, all the while pointing at the pair of doors behind him. "Gotta go," he mutters before ducking out.


	4. Setting a course

Not taking any more chances, in encountering other protective crewmembers, Tom decides to use some of his free time between shifts in the shuttlebay, to give the Delta Flyer the maintainance it desperately needs.

Captain Janeway floats through her bridge shift, securing safe passage through their current region of space by the friendly locals, thus cancelling their regular routine of getting shot at by posturing xenophobes for the day. In her ready room, she can barely keep her mind on the steady stream of PADDs handed her way. Although she is not the sterotypical giddy new bride, she still can't get her mind off of her new husband. "He's so young," she thinks automatically, suddenly aware of the age gap between them. "What would he want with an old lady, anyway?" she thinks to herself with a touch of bitterness, "I'm old enough to be his mother. What as Owen thinking? What gave him this crazy idea, anyway? Not that I mind, but...how will Tom react? How do I make him see me as a human being and not just a captain?"

Tom's repairs on the Flyer are moving right along, when he is interrupted. "Mr Paris," Lieutenant Commander Tuvok's voice breaks through the noise of his tools, "There is a matter we need to discuss."

Paris pulls his head out of the dismantled console and sits up on his heels, "Have a seat. Since you're here there's something I kinda want to talk to you about, too." Tuvok sits down at the nearest station and Tom sits across from him, wiping his hands on his pants. "You may proceed," the Vulcan allows.

"I thought you might be able to give me some insight. You were in an arranged marriage...what was it like marrying someone you barely knew?"

"If you are attempting to liken your situation to mine, you should know they are much farther-flung than you think. You've known Captain Janeway for several years, you have been counted among her friends. You know her far better than I knew T'Pel on our wedding day. Although you have not persued her romantically, it would be unwise to assume that this is the first time that you have caught her attention."

Tom flinches in surprise, "Really?" Feeling strangely pleased by this, he presses on, "How do you know?"

"I have known Captain Janeway even longer than you have, giving me ample opportunity to observe her many behavioral traits. This does not mean that you are obligated to take on the role of husband without preamble. Only do not make the mistake of assuming that she is asexual simply because she is your commanding officer. Captain Janeway is a person of strong feelings, you could easily do harm there unintentionally."

"I'll be careful," the young pilot promises, "I don't want to hurt her feelings any."

"Then I advise you not keep her waiting any longer than you already have." Nodding assent, Tom gets up, snaps the console back together and heads out.


	5. Getting to know you

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, Paramount does. Paramount, however, frelled it up, leaving it to us ficcers to fix!**

The doors to Tom's new shared quarters swish open and he is immediately greeted by his new wife. At the outset he notices her expression, and is relieved that she looks as unsure of the situation as he feels. This helps him not feel quite so awkward for the time being. Kathryn stands, looking him up and down in unmasked anticipation, while at the same time allowing Tom to give her a once-over. He stares as he's never dared to do, drinking in the sight of his captain in civvies, a rare enough sight on _Voyager_, namely a forest green ruffled dress, its translucent gauze skirt curled about her legs. She looks for all the world like a birthday present for him to unwrap. Finally, he finds his voice, "You…look great! I don't know about you but I don't think it's sunk in quite yet. I... I just can't believe I'm not getting court-martialed for this!"

A little embarrassed by their new intimate circumstances, but encouraged by his obvious approval, she taps a few controls on the replicator with a silent plea that the replicator gods might be merciful tonight. She pours two glasses of wine and they both take a seat, each as nervous as someone on their first date. Dinner is passed in virtual silence, each of them afraid to talk, not even sure what they ought to talk about. Finally, Kathryn stands up to recycle her plate, "Tom, this is ridiculous. It's not as though we've just met, and we're not first-year cadets on a diplomatic exercise. We've known each other for years, for crying out loud! We've never been this shy around each other before. Say something! Of all people, you've always had something to say for every situation…appropriate and otherwise," she adds with a scowl that doesn't reach her eyes. Now that the awkward silence is finally broken, and Tom recognizes that her last remark was meant more as a compliment rather than the reprimand it had sounded like, he refills his wine glass, swirls the contents around a little.

"Who would've thought, the two of us?" He takes a sip and migrates over to the couch, she replicates another bottle and follows suit, sitting as close to him as she dares. Feeling the warming, un-inhibiting influence of the wine, Kathryn takes another sip and confesses, "I've thought about it." She looks over at his stunned face and giggles "Don't look so surprised; you're the ship's lady's man, and I'm a lady, am I not?"

"Are you?" Tom teases.

"Most of the time," she replies, scooting up next to him, leaning on his shoulder. The second she crosses the line and touches him she realizes how long it's been since she's done this, actually touched a flesh-and-blood man this way. Tom turns to her, surprised by the sudden contact, but relaxes again when he sees how vulnerable she's made herself. Remembering Tuvok's advice, Tom semi-dutifully puts his arm around her. She gasps quietly, then looks up at him. "Has it been this long? My god, it has," she whispers to no one in particular. She wants to stay there, just melt right into him. Until this morning Tom Paris had just been a friend, a colleague, her helmsman…now she finds herself pondering what he'd be like as a lover. "Just don't go away, Tom. They've all gone away," she pleads cryptically.

Tom recognizes the melancholy stage of just-a-bit-drunk, and pats her shoulder, "I'm not going anywhere, its okay." 'Tuvok's right,' he thinks to himself, 'she _is_ attracted to me. Funny I never noticed it before. Maybe she's never shown me before.' He takes a minute to form his next question, knowing it will sound strange. "Captain? What…what do you want me to call you?"

It's enough to bring her out of her self-pity; she smiles up at him and holds out her hand. "Hi, I'm Kathryn. So nice to meet you at last."

Disarmed, Tom follows suit, taking her hand, "Your reputation precedes you, Kathryn, I'm honored to make your acquaintance." They both smirk over this. "Is that what you prefer to be called?"

Dropping the act, Kathryn sits up straighter, "Generally, but I've been known to accept any variations on the theme. I only ask that you not try new ones out in public."

'As if I'd call her anything but Captain while on duty,' Tom thinks, 'but then again, I did ask.' "One other thing, I was just wondering if you would have allowed yourself to be married off to just anyone?"

Kathryn takes another sip of wine, "No, not just anyone."

"Many?" She shakes her head. "So, there are qualifications?"

"Of course, you must set standards, too. I'd be foolish not to."

"Would my dad have known any of these?"

"He might. I suppose he had some insight to what I look for in a man. He knew my first fiancé, we served together. He must have met Mark, too. I probably dragged him along to some social function or other to show him off like a prize poodle."

"I never knew you were engaged _twice_--"

"He died," Kathryn cuts him off short before he can insinuate scandal or burnt-out romance, thus desecrating Justin's memory.

Tom pauses respectfully, "Oh. I'm sorry."

"I'd rather not get into that tonight, if you want the whole story I'm sure it's still in my psychological profile. I don't want to think about it," she sighs as she plops her face down into her hands. Unsure of what to do, Tom tilts her chin up, surveying her features thoughtfully. He gives her a reassuring smile, tracing her lips gently with his thumb. Kathryn takes him by surprise and kisses him on the mouth with a short little moan of pleasure. Tom jumps back, standing up.

"What was that?"

Kathryn backs off as well, nervously running her fingers through her hair. This involuntary grooming gesture gives away her insecurity. "I'm sorry; I didn't think…I just…did. I couldn't help it. It was nice." She straightens up and shakes her head to clear it, "It must've been the wine, it went straight to my head. It wasn't exactly terrible, though, was it?"

"No, not terrible, just…unexpected," Tom admits.

"Look, let's rewind a bit; I'm getting ahead of myself. I'm…just a little overwhelmed," Kathryn confesses. "All I'm saying is that even if we call the whole thing off tomorrow…this has still been enough to last quite a while. Just this, the two of us, on equal terms. Permitted, _mandated_ by Starfleet." She pauses, a quirky smile on her face, "Just the memory of tonight will keep me going for years. Thank you." Shy again, she turns awkwardly away from him, finally consciously acknowledging her attraction to him.

"I'm not sure I understand. Memories…sustaining you? But I guess for the last seven years you haven't had much else." Tom kicks himself, 'I should've known she'd react like this, she's been alone for so long, of course she'd welcome it.' "Wouldn't you rather it was someone else? I thought you and the Commander had…" he trails off, unsure of what they _did_ have, but certain it was something.

"That was a long time ago, Tom. It wouldn't work now. There've been…too many hurts on either side. We're friends, and I'm glad of it, but we'd never be able to go back, to take back those things. There's resentment that would be difficult to overcome. I loved Chakotay, in some way I always will, and I'm sure the feeling is mutual, but we just couldn't. If it had been him instead of you then tonight would have been even more awkward." Kathryn sighs, faces Tom again, "Whoever was behind _this_ little plan must have been well-informed. They must have known the two of us have our share of common ground. Think about it: we've known each other, not to mention _of_ each other for ages. At any rate I've known all about you since my first commission, your father always bragged about you."

Tom smiles, knowing that somehow he'd earned his father's praise, even if _he'd_ never heard it from the old man. "Yeah, he'd do his share of talking about you, too. I used to wonder what you were like before…you know, New Zealand."

Kathryn smiles back fondly, "We both also had the extra responsibility of living up to our infamous family names, and I'm going out on a limb here and guessing that neither of our fathers had much time for us."

Tom looks intently at his wife, realizing that she'd been hurt, too, by the same absence. Being an admiral's kid meant taking back seat to his career, something was always more important than the attention a child needs. He pulls her close, staring her full in the face. If his father had made the final decision and picked him deliberately, he could think of no higher praise he could get from him. Kathryn Janeway had been the elder Paris' protégée. Did he really think him worthy of such a woman? The idea of an arranged marriage seemed antiquated, even to Tom, who made a hobby of Earth's past. Still, he felt a twinge of obligation to make it work somehow. His distant ancestors probably had been in similar situations, without the luxury of being acquainted with their intended before the wedding day. If they could do it, Tom supposed he could. Anything to see that smile.


	6. Midnight Pool

**Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek, I just do what the writers would never dare to do!**

**Author's Notes: I forgot to say in the first chapter, that Tom and B'Elanna never got married (duh) and instead broke it off during "Drive". Sorry.**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Sorry it takes so long between postings but my free time is sadly limited. Thanks for bearing with me!**

"I think its time to hit the sack," Tom casually remarks, getting a coy smile from his commanding officer.

"Would you like to stay here tonight?" Kathryn asks, leaning into his partial embrace, twining her fingers through his.

"Uh, I hadn't thought about it."

There's a pause, "Would you? You're so warm. God, what the hell am I saying?"

He never would have pegged Captain Janeway as a lightweight, and seeing her like this brings an endearing smile to his face. Tom helps her to her feet, "That'sa girl. Upsy-daisy. You've probably just had a bit more than what's good for you. You'd better lie down. I'll be right here." He walks her into her bedroom and finds her a nightgown, hoping she still had the motor skills to change. True, as a medic he'd seen her with less on, but this was entirely different. He gives her a little over five minutes before knocking on the doorframe. "Are you all right in there?" He walks in to a rather picturesque sight: his new bride lying to one side of the bed, bathed in the pale light of unnamed stars. Tom stops short, noticing how small and solitary she looks in her king-sized captain's bed. Kicking off his shoes and tossing aside his jacket and turtleneck, he slides in next to her with an awkward smile, and gently brushes her cheek. His experimental gesture is met with a soft sensual moan, and it clarifies it even more what a highly tactile person she is. Having been deprived of it for so long makes Kathryn even more sensitive to his touch, and she scoots closer to him, clearly inviting a cuddle.

"Well, goodnight, Mrs. Paris." Tom says, trying not to sound as awkward as he felt about spooning with his captain, especially since she seems to be enjoying it.

They lay like that, staring silently at each other for several minutes. Kathryn is the first to crack. She sits back up and hugs her knees, trying to suppress nervous giggles. "Who am I kidding? I can't sleep now. This is crazy."

"God, I'm relieved to hear you say that. I can't do this yet either. No offense, it's just that you've been kinda like my conscience over the years. It's hard to think of you like that right away."

Janeway gets up and puts on a robe and slippers, "I have a few hours' holodeck time saved up, care to join me in a less intimate setting?"

"Sounds good. What do you have in mind?"

"Up for a game?"

Minutes later they enter Holodeck One and Sandrine's is ordered into existence, complete with pool table. Tom tosses Kathryn a cue, who weighs it in her hand before giving a nod of approval. Tom racks up; he's never tired of seeing his captain's reaction to the delightful sound of pool balls clacking together. She almost makes it seem like a religious experience, her eyes closed reverently, savoring it. She then goes about chalking her cue and powdering her hands, looking quite the professional pool shark even in her nightgown.

"Actually I have an idea, kind of an ice-breaker," she suggests, "For every shot we get in, we have to tell something about ourselves. Sound fair?"

Tom nods approval and gestures to the table. "Ladies first."

Kathryn leans over the table with a determined frown. She takes aim and lets it fly. There's a resounding _crack_ and the balls go in all directions, the 9 and the 12 drop into the right side pocket. Breathing a content sigh of victory, she straightens up, looking strangely elated. "I haven't played for ages it seems. I used to come all the time, I don't know when or why I stopped." She turns to Tom with a smirk that may as well have said "I've still got it!"

Tom steps gracefully towards her with an expectant look, "Okay, now confess. Or do I get to ask you questions that you'd have to answer? Either way, you gotta tell me_ two_ things, if you're playing by your own rules."

"Of course I am!" Kathryn rolls her eyes at him, "but I intend on divulging things of my own choosing, thank you. I'm not giving you free reign in this department, mister."

At that moment, Sandrine glides in like a glittery periwinkle butterfly. "Monsieur Thomas, I should warn you that you 'aven't a chanz, I've seen 'er play."

The accused breaks into a dazzle smile and blushes with a dry chuckle. Her eyes flick between the floor and her husband.

"And why are you both 'ere in your nightclothes?" Sandrine inquires.

"We couldn't sleep," Tom explains simply.

"It was kind of a hectic day, I was just presented with a Starfleet-issue husband," Kathryn explains further.

Tom watches Sandrine calculate the situation as she takes in Kathryn's open body carriage and bright expression to his own unsure stance, knowing full well that nothing escapes her notice. He'd programmed her too close to the original article for her to do any less.

"You are married?! Ah, but this is wonderful news, Thomas! You 'ave nothing to fear from this one, _je'n homme_, I think she likes you already," Sandrine whispers 'confidentially' into his ear with a sly wink. She glides behind him and rubs his shoulders. "I believe the right expression is 'at ease'."

Tom whips around with a forced laugh, "Computer, delete character!" He orders as Kathryn giggles helplessly.

"So, two balls in, right?" She changes the subject quickly away from dangerous waters, "When I was younger, a few friends and I broke into a house in town that was reputedly haunted." She pauses with a smile at her young reckless self, "We should've been arrested. It was only through extenuating circumstances involving a delusional old woman that we didn't all get in serious trouble."

"Are you serious?" Tom laughs, "Wonders never cease. I thought you were the quiet, studious one."

"Well, believe it or not I was young once myself," Kathryn draws herself up in mock indignance.

"Okay, point taken. So, what's the other thing?"

She takes a minute to pick her next 'confession', "I'm allergic to grapefruit." Tom shakes his head, clearly feeling cheated out of something more interesting. Still, it's early in the game. So use using up all the fun ones right away.

Now she's ready for her next shot, she lines it up with a look of total confidence—_donk!_

Her arm gives an involuntary jerk, and her cue strikes the cue ball at the wrong angle, sending it spinning across the table, hitting one of Paris' balls into a corner pocket. Kathryn gapes in utter horror at her mistake, the solid blue 2 ball drops in neatly as you please with a definitive _click_.

"Now, now, I don't need any acts of mercy here. I can make my own shots," Paris gloats, patting her shoulder, "But thanks just the same."

"Oh, really? Last time I checked I was in the lead," she counters, regaining her composure. "So, tell me something."

Tom laughs, backing up and leaning against the bar, "Uh-uh, _you_ got the ball in. Shouldn't matter _whose_ ball, just that you made the shot."

"Oh! _Now_ who isn't playing by the rules? Afraid to let me in on one of your little secrets? Not that there's much about you that I _don't_ know, truth be told. Tell me something, anything. Like…whatever happened with you and B'Elanna? I haven't seen you together much ever since that race you were in."

This sobers Tom up; he sits on a barstool and addresses the ceiling, "Not much to tell, really. We just…figured we'd be better just being friends. Dating her was…well, it was something else, but it felt like we spent an awful lot of time fighting. She's too tough to crack, you know? I couldn't stay close to someone who's that morbidly afraid of a lasting relationship. She wants to blame her parents, for not setting a good example for her. She might be right, who knows? I'm just glad my folks were never like that. Hearing what it was like for her made me appreciate my family as being normal by comparison. The thing is, she was always content to be a victim. I own up to my own mistakes in life, but she has to blame it on either coming from a broken home or a mixed heritage. Nothing's ever her fault. I couldn't respect that, it got old. It was like she was always expecting the worst to happen, waiting for me to turn on her or something. I mean, for a relationship to work, you gotta trust each other, right? You can't love someone you don't trust, and she…didn't trust me."

Kathryn sighs heavily, leaning on her cue, giving Tom a rather defeated look. "I don't want to play anymore," she whispers. She next to him, letting her cue rest against the bar. She gives him a sympathetic look, he smiles back, glad for her company.

"Just because you _know_ I'll either beat you or end up hearing all your gory details," Tom pretends to tease. He tilts her chin up, trying to play it cool. "Are you okay?" Either the physical contact or his genuine concern get a smile out of her again. She smiles languidly and pats his hand, beginning to absently stroke his arm. Not trusting herself to speak, she nods, fully aware that her eyes alone betray her emotional state. She takes a deep breath and plunges ahead.

"Are you? What do you really think? About this? About…me?" Kathryn looks down at the table, no longer able to sustain eye contact with him.

Tom isn't stupid, especially where women are concerned, and like it or not tonight Tom Paris is getting a first-hand view of his captain as a woman; a woman who likes him, and is consequently vulnerable in this situation. "Well, it was a surprise, but not the bad kind. It'll take some getting used to, some adjusting, but it's like you said: I could do worse." He barely controls his urge to laugh, seeing the indestructible Captain Janeway looking distinctly attracted to him but intent on denying it. He wondered how long this had gone on without his noticing.

"My dad and I never really talked after I got drummed out of the 'Fleet, we never knew each other all that well to begin with. But since we made contact with Earth again, and started sending mail back and forth, he and I took that as a second chance. He told me once that when _Voyager_ was found to be in one piece, it was like being told his son was back from the dead, and he wanted to make things right. We've actually started a real father-son relationship, like we never had when I was a kid. He got to see that I wasn't the same screw-up that disgraced the family all those years ago, and I've gotten to see that he isn't the same disappointed Admiral I never saw eye-to-eye with. I never noticed until today, in Astrometrics, but after looking at some of his old letters to me I found one common thread. He always told me to 'take good care of _Voyager_ and its captain'. He knows you, and he must care about you a lot. Cause he knows that you need a little help now and then."

Kathryn smiles, this time not tinged by sadness nor closely fettered desire, "He knows me. He knows I never ask for help even if I need it, I need it forced on me. Maybe he got the feeling that I wouldn't mind being taken care of…if it was you. You've been such a good friend to me, you never acted as though I was any different than the rest of the crew, I wasn't above being a mark for your pranks. You never assumed I knew what I was doing, and you've never been shy about letting me know that I'm wrong. Its refreshing, it's nice, I love that about you." She blushes magenta as she lets slip the 'l' word, hoping it doesn't scare him. "So no matter what happens with this whole marriage business, I hope we can still be friends."

"I'd like that," Tom says, "We never said 'Love, honor, and obey' or 'till death do us part', just 'take care of each other'."


	7. Tweaking the Circumstances

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek Voyager or its characters. No sane writer would make them do what I'm making them do!**

**Author's Notes: It's been a very long time but I've finally updated! Sorry for the long wait, hope everyone's still alive and ready for more. This has been really difficult to segue, I know what I want to happen, but getting there is the difficult part. I hope I never make you wait so long between posts again. Here's a little something while I work on it some more. On with the show!**

"...no matter what happens with this whole marriage business, I hope we can still be friends."

"I'd like that," Tom says, "We never said 'Love, honor, and obey' or 'till death do us part', just 'take care of each other'."

They both look down at the pool table, the forgotten game silently begging to be finished. They look back at each other, feeling content that they'd begun to clear the air between them. Although he still isn't sure how to think of his captain in this new light, hearing about her youth—she sounded like someone he would've been friends with, had they been closer in age and location—left Tom feeling more relaxed around her. He reminds himself that right now she's just Kathryn, a human being; she's playing pool with him in her nightgown at 0100 hours and doesn't look remotely self-conscious about it. An idea crosses his mind, and something about the way Kathryn looks at him suggests that he could get away with it. He takes her hand with a casual smile, pulls her a step or two closer, and kisses her lightly on the forehead.

Kathryn's heart jumps in surprise, and it's all she can do not to gasp aloud. A strange warmth flutters over her from within, and she slowly releases a sigh of quiet content. _He's not afraid of me_, she thinks, amazed. _He kissed me…he _kissed_ me?_ She looks up at him, bemused by his strange behavior. _I could get used to this…_she ponders with a sneaky smile, indulging herself in the pleasure of his company.

Tom wonders immediately if he's done the wrong thing. He'd definitely surprised her, but from the looks of things it was a nice surprise. His relief is short-lived, though; next he sees a strangely determined look cross Kathryn's face. She takes a breath, as though bracing herself for something, and further closes the space between them, pressing her body into his.

"Hold me," she murmurs, "Just-just…for a little while."

Tom awkwardly puts his arms around her, patting and rubbing her back, feeling her shivering against him as her senses go wild. She sighs into his shoulder; he reaches upwards and runs his fingers through her hair. It's all she can do not to cry as he touches her with such earnest chastity. Strange that his innocent attention could remind her of so much that she's missed out on, making her crave more, so deeply. After a few moments of this, he steps back, keeping her at arm's length. She looks back curiously.

"That was…I…I hope you didn't mind." Kathryn fidgets uncertainly, looking a little embarrassed.

Tom shakes his head, "It's not a big deal, I understand. One problem with Starfleet, not enough officers remember to hug their captain. Everyone needs to have contact sometimes." Kathryn blushes.

An awkward silence descends on them; neither knows which direction to look. Finally, she jerks her head back to the table, "Want to finish up here and try going to sleep again?"

"Good idea. Whose turn is it?"

It takes a minute for her to remember, "You, I think. I got one of yours in."

"Oh, yeah. Let's see what we have to work with…"

"You have plenty to choose from," Kathryn sasses him playfully.

"Ha, ha," Tom replies sarcastically, "You're only ahead by one, so don't get too cocky." He bends over the table, sighting down his cue to take aim. An upward glance is his undoing as he beholds his commanding officer with a very un-captain-like smile on her face. It's as though she's admiring him. The look throws off his concentration and he misses his shot by a mile. Her pensive smile erupts into giggles at his expense. She gets her next shot in without a problem, getting a smirk from her competitor.

"So, what else don't I know about you, the Great Kathryn Janeway?"

" 'Great'", she scoffs, "I'll let you in on a little secret: that is an image I struggle to maintain every day. You know full well that half of it is luck."

"All right, I understand. So…what are you afraid of?"

This direct and very personal question makes Janeway flinch. She softens after a moment, pausing in thought.

"Failure."

Tom nods, "Yeah, I thought you'd say something like that. Is there anything more…physical? Tangible?" Tom's blue eyes sparkle teasingly at her, watching her squirm.

Kathryn gives him a parody of the Death Glare and rolls her eyes. She isn't going to get out of this with her dignity intact. In an embarrassed voice, she addresses the ceiling.

"Woodpeckers. They scare the hell out of me." She looks back at Tom with a guilty smile. "Two of them got into the house when I was a kid! It took over an hour for my parents to chase them out! Flapping all over the place, tapping their little beaks everywhere…" she shudders at the memory, eliciting a laugh from Tom. "We lived in the country."

"At the mercy of all those wild beasts, sounds harrowing. Good practice for your future out here with the Borg."

They share a laugh over this, and for the moment both are feeling comfortable together.

By 0130 the game is over and they are heading back to bed. Tom lies down next to his bride and stares at her openly, wondering how long she has been attracted to him like this. Why she never said anything before…well, Tom supposes, that one can slide. It's not exactly appropriate for a captain to be eyeing up her officers. All it took was a slight shift in the situation to let her out of her shell.

Her eyes drift close contently, reaching out her hand towards her new husband. "Thanks for tonight, I had a great time. I missed this so much. Being able to let my guard down for once and not worry."

Tom takes her hand, gives it a squeeze, hoping that this was the right thing to do for her. Figuring that they just need time to get to know each other, to grow comfortable with each other, and everything will somehow fall into place, Tom falls asleep without responding. Just as he drifts off, he feels her squeeze his hand.

At 0700, the alarm sounds, summoning Captain Janeway from her reposeful sleep with an irritated groan. Shutting it off, she rolls over—right into Tom! After remembering why he's there, she smiles at him sleepily, then starts suddenly back, self-conscious of her bedraggled state. On the Bridge, she's always careful to be well-groomed at all times, the thought of someone seeing her before her daily preening rituals is disconcerting to say the least.

Tom squints at her confusedly, not seeing what is distressing her so much. It's when she starts running her hands nervously over her hair, he realizes what must be the problem.

"You can be first in the bathroom, I'm not on duty for another hour anyway," he yawns rolling back over. "I don't take too long making myself pretty," he adds.

Kathryn goes into the bathroom and immediately ponders: sonic shower or a bath? With half a glance back into the bedroom, she brushes the idea aside. "Save the bath for later," she mutters to herself, letting the sonic waves pulse her body clean. After she steps back out, she's surprised to see Tom in the doorway! Years of living alone have made her forget about little things like closing the bathroom door all the way. Self-consciously, she brings her arms up around her shoulders with a startled gasp. Tom jumps back as if he's been stung, whipping around so fast it's a miracle he doesn't trip.

"Sorry, sorry! I just-"

By now, she's slipped into her bathrobe and coaxes him in.

"Tom! It's all right. You won't turn to stone or anything." She goes back to putting on makeup unconcernedly. "You'll have plenty of time to look later."

Tom chuckles dryly, still uncomfortable with how…comfortable she's gotten around him. In a few minutes she's out, leaving him to get ready.

Captain Janeway makes a quick detour through the mess hall on her way to the bridge, and is met with a smattering of well-wishers and remarks from the peanut gallery. Neelix immediately descends upon her, thrusting his exuberance on her whether she's ready or not.

"Now don't tell me that the new bride has to work the day after the wedding?" he inquires, little knowing he's pushing his limits before she's had her coffee.

Biting her tongue to keep herself from saying what she's _really_ thinking, she smiles indulgingly, "No time for a break here. The best we can hope for is a few days in peaceful space." As she's speaking, she makes a beeline for the nearest coffee carafe and gets her first dose of the day. After a few sips, she can even put up with the over-excited kitchen rat at this hour of the morning.

Sensing that the danger is passed, Neelix goes on, "So, how's married life?"

"A lot like single life, actually. Lieutenant Paris and I didn't exactly plan on this. It'll take some time to really get used to," is her diplomatic response. It really wouldn't do to involve him in their newly-formed romantic entanglements this early on. It's not like she's a lower-rank who can afford to gossip about such matters. Just as she's about to escape, her comm line bleeps on—

"Doctor to Captain Janeway!"

Heaving a sigh, she taps her badge on, "Janeway here"

"Don't forget, today's your scheduled physical. If you come quietly, I'll try to get it over with as quickly as possible. I'd just rather not get security involved."

"Very funny, Doctor. I'll be right there."

He obviously hadn't expected her to come without a fight, her un-coerced compliance takes him completely by surprise. "Very well, we'll begin immediately."

Moments later, the doors of Sickbay loom before her. Reminding herself that she'd rather suffer through one of the Doctor's physicals than put up with her first officer's potentially snide remarks, Janeway enters Sickbay without fuss.

The Doctor jumps in immediately, as though he expects the captain to change her mind at the last minute and bolt.

"So, are all the rumors true?" the EMH asks, more in the style of a hairdresser than a physician.

Janeway sighs, realizing that she's going to have to put up with these inquiries until everyone gets used to the idea. "Yes, Doctor, you know full well. Tom and I are…" she stops short, catching how familiarly she's referred to him.

It doesn't escape the Doctor's notice, either. "Things are going well, I take it?"

"About as well as they can be. It's not like either of us had planned on this. Still…" she can't help but smile as she thinks about her new husband, "It could be nice…potentially."

"Potentially? So, Mr. Paris isn't on the same page yet?"

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, I'm his captain. I'm sure we'll get used to each other at our own pace, but I realize it's a bit too much to hope that he drops formalities that quickly. I can't expect it to happen overnight."

The Doctor raises his eyes from the tricorder's readouts with a smirk, "_Speaking_ of night…"

Janeway flushes, her eyes wide with her coming wrath, "Doctor!"

He brushes her warning aside, "I was going to say, it looks like you had a good night's sleep. Your melatonin and serotonin levels are optimal this morning. Although, as a doctor I _can_ profess to the medical benefits of…other nightly activities, which, in time, I'm sure you'll be able to…enjoy once again." Janeway groans, a hand over her face, contemplating how to deactivate him before he can stop her. "In addition to the many psychological benefits, it improves circulation, releases endorphins, improves the quality of sleep…"

Sliding her hand down from her face, Janeway gives him a condensed Death Glare, "Doctor…" she warns.

"Honestly, Captain, I'm surprised at you. A broad-minded 24th century woman like you getting embarrassed about a perfectly natural fact of life."

"Just get on with the exam."

He hums to himself as he passes the medical tricorder around her body, irritating the hell out of her with his elusive "Hmm…_hmmm_…now that's interesting."

"_What's_ interesting, Doctor?"

He goes to the replicator, loads a hypospray, and presses it to Janeway's neck. "You have a mild virus that's coming out of dormancy; you could have picked it up last week during shore leave. Nothing to worry about, I've taken care of the worst of it. You may experience an irritation of the throat but it should go dormant in a few days."

She rubs the spot on her neck where he'd injected her, "Thank you, Doctor. Anything else?"

"Well, my usual set of 'doctor's orders' usually go unheeded, so I can only hope Lieutenant Paris can be a better influence on you in regards to how you treat yourself. Which reminds me: when you get to the Bridge, tell him that he's next."

"Thank you, Doctor, I will."

The turbolift doors slide open, Commander Chakotay stands. "Captain on the Bridge." Everyone else follows suit, sitting back down once she's seated.

"Report."

Gesturing to their consol, Chakotay reports, "Friendly space ahead. While you were in Sickbay we were hailed by a transport vessel who was interested in conducting a trade. We may all benefit from this opportunity. Seven of Nine is with him in the cargo bay as we speak."

"Excellent. Mr. Paris, the Doctor will see you now."

Spinning around in his seat, he looks at her questioningly. "Captain?"

"He told me to pass the word along."

After he's gone, Chakotay leans in. "So how's _Mrs._ Paris?"

"The Doctor said I had a minor-sounding virus. Shouldn't last longer than a couple of days."

"That's not what I meant."

The look she gives him says she already knew that.


End file.
